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Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Battle Decided
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Everything happened quickly. The boys and girls roared into each other. It was not the skirmish of the non-mages. There was no physical clashing involved. This was a skirmish for those who trained to become great mages in the future. A few fists were thrown, but most of all, spells came flying, and the ambient reia was disturbed as if by the fury of a crashing wave.
Trudi was all smiles as she sent spells flying, simple incantations after the other. Unlike the boys, the girls seemed to possess a chosen strategy. Some bought time for the spellcasters, dispensing physical oppression upon the boys. Lacra moved like a force to be reckoned with. Her steps were quick, carrying her across the arena in short bursts. She was everywhere she needed to be to support her team when they needed it. A fist here and there, forcing a boy or the other into defense where they’d been going for offense.
Moss forced his way into the enemy, a battering ram in his form, arms crossed over
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“Same as last year.” Lacra made a grunting sound like gravels scraping. She coughed, turned her head to the side, and spat out a blob of blood stained spittle. “Same as last fucking year.”She was seated on the sand. Her tattered clothes did not leave much for imaginations, but the necessary parts were covered and she cast the perfect look of a warrior from battle. Gyra and Kilvic stood in front of her. Around them the others were beginning to rise groggily. It had been roughly fifteen minutes since Lacra had surrendered and Kilvic noted her injuries were gone, completely healed. He turned his head to Fyodan where he stood, the first to come to his feet. Behind him the crack in the arena wall was also gone. Healing or reconstructive, he wondered. They did not have an arena like this in castle Grey. They did not have an arena that fixed itself… or those within it.Its effects were slow, but each of the students were comin
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Outside, the arena remained its cacophony of training, students panting with the exaggerated stress of those who’d worked themselves. But Vilan did not pant, and neither did Gyra. Vilan sat in the sand, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, and face bowed in hiding. Around him reia worked. Unrefined lumps of sand the size of an adult’s head hovered about him, four orbs—if they could be called such. And before the boy, hidden from his view, a staff trembled in the sand. Kilvic paused to watch all this, ignoring Gyra’s noted attention on him.Ariadne stopped beside him, turned her attention to what had his, and sucked in a sharp breath. “Four links,” she gasped. Kilvic was not certain if she was impressed or underwhelmed.Seven, Kilvic corrected mentally. Barely perceptible, two clusters of air hovered, struggling to maintain their new nature. Ariadne had not counted the boy’s link to the staff either,
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Moss said nothing for a moment, and Kilvic continued to stare out at the arena, at their hall mates training. Lacra remained powerful, her attacks brutal. But Gyra remained standing, bracing against her charges, casting aside spells where he would, evading where he would. The boy was powerful for one his age.When Moss spoke he sounded more confused than irate. “It’s how you say these things with a straight face that’s creepy. I don’t know if you are angry, bored or worried. Which is it?”Kilvic thought about it briefly. It was a logical question. Why had he said it when he hadn’t needed to? Moss had given him a piece of advice, and he’d given one in return. Was it the reference to the magi that had spurred him to speak. Yes, the magi were what mages were called in the older times when they had engaged in combat from a distance. They were mages who had failed once their opponents engaged them in the melee, something very simila
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Moss said nothing for a moment, and Kilvic continued to stare out at the arena, at their hall mates training. Lacra remained powerful, her attacks brutal. But Gyra remained standing, bracing against her charges, casting aside spells where he would, evading where he would. The boy was powerful for one his age.When Moss spoke he sounded more confused than irate. “It’s how you say these things with a straight face that’s creepy. I don’t know if you are angry, bored or worried. Which is it?”Kilvic thought about it briefly. It was a logical question. Why had he said it when he hadn’t needed to? Moss had given him a piece of advice, and he’d given one in return. Was it the reference to the magi that had spurred him to speak. Yes, the magi were what mages were called in the older times when they had engaged in combat from a distance. They were mages who had failed once their opponents engaged them in the melee, something very simila
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Outside, the arena remained its cacophony of training, students panting with the exaggerated stress of those who’d worked themselves. But Vilan did not pant, and neither did Gyra. Vilan sat in the sand, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, and face bowed in hiding. Around him reia worked. Unrefined lumps of sand the size of an adult’s head hovered about him, four orbs—if they could be called such. And before the boy, hidden from his view, a staff trembled in the sand. Kilvic paused to watch all this, ignoring Gyra’s noted attention on him.Ariadne stopped beside him, turned her attention to what had his, and sucked in a sharp breath. “Four links,” she gasped. Kilvic was not certain if she was impressed or underwhelmed.Seven, Kilvic corrected mentally. Barely perceptible, two clusters of air hovered, struggling to maintain their new nature. Ariadne had not counted the boy’s link to the staff either,
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“Same as last year.” Lacra made a grunting sound like gravels scraping. She coughed, turned her head to the side, and spat out a blob of blood stained spittle. “Same as last fucking year.”She was seated on the sand. Her tattered clothes did not leave much for imaginations, but the necessary parts were covered and she cast the perfect look of a warrior from battle. Gyra and Kilvic stood in front of her. Around them the others were beginning to rise groggily. It had been roughly fifteen minutes since Lacra had surrendered and Kilvic noted her injuries were gone, completely healed. He turned his head to Fyodan where he stood, the first to come to his feet. Behind him the crack in the arena wall was also gone. Healing or reconstructive, he wondered. They did not have an arena like this in castle Grey. They did not have an arena that fixed itself… or those within it.Its effects were slow, but each of the students were comin
The Demon King Chronicles; Demon-Named Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Battle Decided
Everything happened quickly. The boys and girls roared into each other. It was not the skirmish of the non-mages. There was no physical clashing involved. This was a skirmish for those who trained to become great mages in the future. A few fists were thrown, but most of all, spells came flying, and the ambient reia was disturbed as if by the fury of a crashing wave.Trudi was all smiles as she sent spells flying, simple incantations after the other. Unlike the boys, the girls seemed to possess a chosen strategy. Some bought time for the spellcasters, dispensing physical oppression upon the boys. Lacra moved like a force to be reckoned with. Her steps were quick, carrying her across the arena in short bursts. She was everywhere she needed to be to support her team when they needed it. A fist here and there, forcing a boy or the other into defense where they’d been going for offense.Moss forced his way into the enemy, a battering ram in his form, arms crossed over
